


kim geonhak's journey to dick (and love)

by frosmxths



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, M/M, aka adult humour/sexual humour, background keonhee/youngjo and dongju/hwanwoong, friends with benefits seowoong, passing mentions of open relationship, rated m for bawdy crude humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28949484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosmxths/pseuds/frosmxths
Summary: “I know you’re a little slow with things like this, hyung—” and the littleshitsounds sogentle, soothing as he catches Geonhak’s eyes and smiles sosweetly— “But, like, Ireallythink you need to bone”“Huh?”“You need dick” a pause, Geonhak forgets how to breathe— “like, really good dick”Geonhak is (definitely not) sexually frustrated, Hwanwoong sets him up with his crush for a good night.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	kim geonhak's journey to dick (and love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suheafoams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/gifts).



> this has. so many terrible sex jokes. like. every other sentence. the humour is very crude because they keep talking about fucking i had to MAKE THIS RATED M. anyway sorry the tags are a mess i was just Trying Really Hard To Figure Out How To Tag And I Couldnt Without Being A Mess
> 
> for dahlia because i like making her happy. and for all my seodo loving friends who i also like making happy. 
> 
> i hope u laugh :D

Contrary to popular belief (read: contrary to what Hwanwoong said to him), Geonhak’s pretty sure he’s not _sexually frustrated._

Even if Hwanwoong (and lately, Youngjo—much to Geonhak’s horror) insisted that all that exercise _couldn’t_ just be a love for the sport, but was in fact some twisted overcompensation for a _lonely dick_ —insisted that it was _fine to want to fuck, hyung_ with a shit-eating grin on his face and one too many hickeys on his neck—

Even if the little demon made it his life goal to torment Geonhak into admitting his dick’s needs (which he _might’ve_ let slip once, when he thought Hwanwoong was way too drunk to remember anything and Youngjo was sleeping on Geonhak’s shoulder), Geonhak’s pretty sure he is _not_ sexually frustrated.

Does he want to fuck? Well, it’d be nice, maybe—but he doesn’t feel like he particularly _needs_ it—nor does he feel like he’s lacking in the boning department enough to let it affect his daily life.

He finds men hot, deals with morning wood, deals with Youngjo’s kinks he _never_ wanted to find out about whenever he brings Keonhee over, and deals with his regular enough interest in sex and his status as _The Single One_.

He deals fine— He’s not needy, and he’s most _definitely_ not lonely-horny.

Hwanwoong is just annoying.

“What do you think?” Geonhak blinks—feels the atmosphere of the quaint café dig into his bones as he comes back to Earth. Hwanwoong’s sitting in front of him still, phone face down on the table as he sips on his overly sweet iced coffee—eyes wide as he tries to gouge _something_ out of Geonhak—

“What do I think…?” He lowers the sad cracker he’s been absent-mindedly munching on to a half-used napkin, lets his eyes fall on Hwanwoong’s for a split-second before looking away. Hwanwoong sighs, defeated—drops his plastic plastic cup to the table in exaggerated theatrics—

“You’re not even listening” and he pouts, all cute and looking like a very upset baby kitten—Geonhak gives him a smile, awkward, and a little shrug.

“Sorry” he pokes at the cracker, gets crumbs on the table—“You talk too much”

“Mean” Hwanwoong huffs— still pouting—pushes pink bangs back as he picks up the remnants of some cake from his plate. “I’m doing this for _you_ , you know?”

“I didn’t ask” Geonhak shrugs—Hwanwoong rolls his eyes, flips his phone around at the same time it buzzes— “What _are_ you doing for me, though?”

“You’re interested?” and Hwanwoong’s eyes almost _shine—_ shine in a way that speaks of nothing but mischief that Geonhak could _very_ well do without—

“No” Hwanwoong frowns, does a sad little growl as he opens his chat with Dongju—metaphorical ears and tail standing on _edge_ as he tries not to jump at Geonhak’s throat. “But you’re doing it anyway, so?”

“I would never” he sips the last of his coffee—rests his chin to his hand with a little smile, all teeth and no kindness as he looks at Geonhak.

Geonhak doesn’t like that.

Geonhak doesn’t _trust_ that.

“Spill” he frowns—squints at Hwanwoong and snaps the cracker in half, vague threat that Hwanwoong could probably get _off_ to under every other circumstance—if not in this one, too.

“Scary” Hwanwoong laughs, leans back on his chair and locks his phone again—lets his hands fall over his crossed legs on the chair. Geonhak quirks an eyebrow up, expectant—Hwanwoong replies with a little smile, a cock of his head to the side.

Eerie.

“You’ve been pent up lately, right?” Geonhak dares a nod, a confused little scrunch of his nose—Hwanwoong’s smile widens. “So, I was thinking I could set you up with someone”

“What” _What?_

“Set you up” Hwanwoong leans forward, drags his chair closer—close enough he can comfortably reach out over the table—

“Why?” and then Hwanwoong’s _sighing,_ hands warm and careful where they now rest over Geonhak’s— touch almost _delicate_ , even, as if Geonhak were a wild animal that would run away at the smallest noise or movement (not exactly wrong, he must admit)—

“I _know_ you’re a little slow with things like this, hyung—” and the little _shit_ sounds so _gentle,_ soothing as he catches Geonhak’s eyes and smiles so _sweetly—_ “But, like, I _really_ think you need to bone”

“Huh?”

“You need dick” a pause, Geonhak forgets how to breathe— “like, really good dick”

Geonhak _chokes._

“What the _fuck?”_

“Boning?” Geonhak makes a strangled noise—Hwanwoong lifts an eyebrow at him. “Getting railed into next week? Fucki—”

“I _know_ that—oh my _god—_ ” Geonhak crushes the poor cracker, accidentally, clenches his hand on the forgotten napkin as he tries to bring his words _back_ because _holy fucking shit_ Hwanwoong—

“Cool” Hwanwoong nods, self-satisfied, grabs his phone in a swift and all too cheerful motion. “Glad you know what sex is, means we can keep going with this!”

“Of course I know what sex is, this isn’t—” Hwanwoong lets out a groan, fake annoyance as he reaches out—puts a finger to Geonhak’s lips in a _shush._

“Let me get you laid” a shit-eating grin, his thumb flicking through conversation at speeds Geonhak does not consider humanly possible—much less when he’s not even _looking_ at his screen.

Geonhak can only blink in fear—eyes on Hwanwoong like a terrified puppy.

“Here” and he turns his phone screen—sits back so Geonhak can look at it more clearly, see the short conversation that’s _somehow_ from the last few minutes, despite Hwanwoong having been talking to Geonhak all the while. “He said okay”

Hwanwoong sounds disgustingly excited—Geonhak can feel his soul leave his body.

Not only because Hwanwoong had, somehow, set him up with someone in an _amazing_ show of his demonic skills—and despite the fact that he _sucks_ at doing anything with his hands, sucks at talking to people in general, sucks at being anything but a god damn _menace_ in Geonhak’s life— but also because that someone _just_ so happened to be Hwanwoong’s roommate—

Hwanwoong’s roommate and Geonhak’s unfortunate tiny, very small, minuscule and almost imperceptible _crush—_

Fucking _Lee Seoho_ —

Geonhak didn’t even _know_ the guy was into casual sex, Jesus _Christ_ —

“He likes you a lot” Hwanwoong clicks his phone off, nods to himself. “And he’s good at taking care of others, if that’s what you want?” a sly smile, legs back to crossing over the chair and cheek to his hand—

“Why do you know that?” A little choked— a little _too_ high-pitched. Hwanwoong scoffs, pulls at the edges of his phone case and bites at his lips—

“’Cause we fuck?” Geonhak _squeaks—_ feels like every bone in his unfortunate mortal body has turned to _dust_ before he comes back— “Dongju knows, before you ask” Hwanwoong shrugs, something a little embarrassed—maybe a little too vulnerable despite the _chaos_ spilling from his lips— “And he’s fine with it, so don’t worry”

“Oh” He breathes out—shaky exhale and a hundred questions that only turn to—“What the fuck?”

“We’re not exclusive,” and Hwanwoong frowns, snaps his phone case back in place with a sharp noise—with shaky breathing and avoidant eyes. “If— god, if it’s—” and he taps at the table, bites at his lip—bites at the fingers of his other hand, nervous habit even _Geonhak_ has grown able to read—“if you’re just gonna say something rude, then—”

“No” Geonhak’s hand hits the table a little too strong—has him wincing in pain even as he lets his mouth run, thoughts a mile a minute because _holy shit that is not—_ “I don’t—don’t mind whatever you do with your sex—love?—sex life, just—”

“Just?” and Hwanwoong looks… _careful_ —observes Geonhak with sharp eyes and a hand to the back of his neck, tapping at odd intervals.

“I didn’t—” Geonhak breathes in—swallows—falls back on his chair and completely _avoids_ Hwanwoong’s eyes—“I didn’t know Seoho-hyung fucked,”

And there’s a beat of silence—a beat of Hwanwoong’s eyes on Geonhak’s, of Hwanwoong’s fingers pulling at the back of his hair—

And then Hwanwoong visibly _relaxes_ , little smile back on his features as he lets his hands drop flat on the table—lets a quiet laugh leave him, something happy and full of _relief—_

“Oh” Hwanwoong leans forward, smile turning to a playful little thing that Geonhak, for once, finds comfort in—“No, yeah, he does” and Geonhak’s stuck between _thank god his brain worked and he didn’t upset Hwanwoong further_ and _what the fuck do you mean—_ “Seoho-hyung fucks” Hwanwoong nods to himself, lets his fingers tap together in something like a clap over the table—all happy and seemingly satisfied. “And he fucks _good”_

“ _Huh_?” Huh?

“Means he’s good at it?” Geonhak lets out a _squeak—_ Hwanwoong gives an adorably out of place cock of his head. “Like, really good”

“That’s not—” An inhale—Hwanwoong laughs again, loud this time, eyes crinkled up and hands held together in a cute little _clap_ of amusement. “I don’t—I _know_ what you meant—”

“Then what?” a pout, all to playful and exaggerated—Geonhak lets out a choked noise, runs a hand through his hair, the back of his neck—

“He fucks?” Geonhak doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed at how squeaky and _maybe dying_ he sounds—only has enough to make up some words as he battles back the mental image of _Seoho fucks good—_

“He fucks” Flat—and then Hwanwoong breaks into giggles again, happy and so incredibly _amused_ as he bounces his feet on the floor and taps at the table again. “And I think you’d match well”

“ _Match?”_ Hwanwoong nods, still smiling, plays with his cup absent-mindedly.

“You’re a useless bottom, for one thing” he bites at the straw—Geonhak _splutters,_ damn nearly falls back and off his fucking _chair_ as he tries to catch his reigns and _fucking Hwanwoong—_

“I’m not _useless_ ” a petulant complaint as he straightens in his chair again—maybe a little too loud, as it earns them a few concerned looks that Hwanwoong laughs a little awkwardly at.

“’Kay” Hwanwoong shrugs, gives a half eyeroll that eerily reminds Geonhak of Dongju, demon number two in the relationship—pulls out the straw to keep gnawing at it as he seems to plot how to kill Geonhak _further—_ “Whatever u say, puppy boy”

_“Woong—_ ” Hwanwoong cuts him off with a shushing noise—with a hand up and pointing the straw threateningly at Geonhak’s face.

“I was _saying,_ ” he drops the straw, rolls it around with overactive fingers as he talks. “He’s good at taking care of others, and you _like_ being taken care of— _and_ ” Geonhak tries to interrupt again, save some semblance of his shattered useless _pride_ —Hwanwoong stops him with a deadly weak straw stab to his hand, a pout on his lips that lasts a second. “You’re so bad at taking any initiative” and he sounds like he’s biting his tongue a little bit—but Geonhak can’t even take the chance to speak because _Jesus Christ fucking Hwanwoong—_

He can only squeak—which earns him a laugh from Hwanwoong—still self-satisfied and incredibly amused.

“He is, too, but—better than you—plus I’ve talked about this to him for you, and—”

“Why is the list so _long—”_

“ _And”_ Hwanwoong doesn’t listen—doesn’t let Geonhak _speak—_ only raises his voice for a word before going back to a happy little chime. “He likes you a lot, _you_ like him a lot—you find each other hot, so”

That’s the second time Hwanwoong says that— _he likes you a lot_ —and, this time, it actually _hits_ Geonhak—he properly processes it, no longer focused on the fact that Seoho does in fact fuck, contrary to popular (Geonhak’s) belief that the man had never used his _dick—_

It’s the second time Hwanwoong says it—sure of himself and smiling like the menace he is—and Geonhak can’t for the life of him figure out what the _fuck_ that entails—

“How do you know that?” Hwanwoong blinks—freezes on his path to rolling the unfortunate straw from one side of the table to the other.

“You told Dongju?” Geonhak makes a noise—a little whine of defeat—

“Not about _me_ , like” because of _course_ Dongju had told Hwanwoong, he had even asked Geonhak if he could share the knowledge with his boyfriend, _god_ , this isn’t about _that—_ Geonhak rubs at the back of his neck, taps his feet on the floor and spins his head over and _over_ — “Him— How do you know—the— that he finds me hot— _how do you_ _know_ _that_?”

Hwanwoong’s lips part in a little ‘o’—he places his hand over his phone, sighs all too fondly as he looks at Geonhak. “I fuck the guy” deadpan—Geonhak fucking _chokes_ again—

“What does _that—”_ Hwanwoong is a _health hazard,_ god _damn—_ “Fucking doesn’t mean— _Hwanwoong—”_

“It means he _trusts_ me, hyung” and he smiles, reaches over the table to take Geonhak’s hands in his _again—_ “He talks about you, he likes you” and it’s… oddly _tender_ , more like a concerned friend and less like a menace—it’s weird, but not unwelcome, and Geonhak finds that _maybe_ he could agree to this, if Hwanwoong’s being so genuinely earnest about it—

“He talks about me?” Quieter—nervous hands a little too sweaty under Hwanwoong’s. Hwanwoong smiles, snorts under his breath and pulls back.

“Too much” he spins his phone on the table, pushes back hair from his forehead—manages to smudge his glasses with clumsy hands. “It’s cute, though, I gotta give him that” Hwanwoong frowns, puts his hand in front of his face a second— pulls of his glasses with a grunt—“But yeah, he likes you, I’m sure of that”

“Like, completely sure?” he reaches out, takes Hwanwoong’s glasses carefully—rummages in his pocket for a little cloth, cleans them—

“Yep” Geonhak hands him his glasses back—Hwanwoong smiles, all cute and stupidly _endearing_ , puts them back on and hums.

There’s a second of silence—Geonhak stares at his hands, runs possibilities in his head—thinks about Seoho and thinks about—

“Are you sure we’ll… match? What if we don’t have any, like—” and he makes a vague hand gesture, a scrunch of his nose as he simply forgets every and all words he has ever _known—_

Hwanwoong nods happily, picks his straw up again and throws it in the empty cup— “Trust me” he takes the cup in both hands, leans his whole body forward and over the table to get closer to Geonhak and _whisper_ —“You’ll _love_ having him inside of you”

Geonhak falls off his chair.

____

The unfortunate-fortunate encounter with his demon (Hwanwoong) ends when Dongju texts said demon—shows up at the door to pick him up, bag slung over his shoulder and long hair tied in a low ponytail. Hwanwoong waves at him excitedly, all too deceptively cute, before turning to Geonhak—he takes Geonhak’s hand in his, gives him a _terrible_ little smile, and then promises he’ll text him later with _details_ before he walks off.

Geonhak fears the details, and, when said _details_ end up being Seoho’s phone number and a very detailed lists of places where he is and isn’t allowed to fuck in Hwanwoong’s apartment, Geonhak nearly screams in Youngjo’s studio.

Youngjo laughs, all concerned and amused, as Geonhak shoves his phone straight into the trashcan.

“You okay?” Youngjo’s voice is lilted with laughter, but honest enough Geonhak simply doesn’t have it in him to get mad—he only scowls, angry at the world, and looks up at Youngjo like a kicked puppy.

“Yes” He pulls at his fingers, rolls his shoulders back. Youngjo quirks and eyebrow up at him, smile sickeningly _sweet_ as he picks Geonhak’s phone from the (mostly) clean trashcan and dusts it off.

“Your phone’s not at fault, Geonhakkie” Geonhak huffs, takes his phone back with a grumbled _thank you_ —Youngjo only laughs softly, pulls his chair closer and drops down comfortably.

Geonhak’s phone buzzes—he breathes in, places it face down on his thigh a _little_ too strongly. “Demon lives in my phone” he spares a glance up, lets Youngjo’s _stupidly_ soothing presence wash over him like a calming wave—"Can’t be helped”

“What’d the demon do?” Youngjo lets his hand fall over Geonhak’s, pulls at his fingers—pulls out stress and has Geonhak’s hand relaxing over his phone.

Geonhak sighs, gives a vague shrug—Youngjo taps at his hand softly, all kind patience and a little too much care. “What didn’t he?” a scrunch of his nose, a frustrated sigh. Youngjo laughs, all fluffy hair to his eyes, looks up at Geonhak like a _very_ interested kitty.

God.

“He set me up” Youngjo cocks his head to the side, Geonhak looks away—eyes to some random spot of the stained carpet as he talks. “With his roommate”

“With Seoho?” Youngjo’s eyes widen the _slightest_ bit—bright and pretty as he holds Geonhak’s hand a little tighter. “Isn’t that good?” He smiles, Geonhak only frowns. “You like him, don’t you?”

“No” Youngjo quirks an eyebrow up, all amused and a little cocky—Geonhak huffs out a breath, frustrated, and settles for simply pouting. “Yes”

Youngjo hums, takes Geonhak’s phone from the death grip Geonhak has on it again—places it on the table before going back to Geonhak.

Geonhak blinks, stares at nothing—Youngjo simply waits.

“I do like him” Geonhak’s throat feels dry—Youngjo only nods, all wide-eyed and _attentive_ , hand going back to hold Geonhak’s all too softly. “But, like, I don’t—don’t know how this is gonna work?”

“Why?”

“He set us up to—” and Geonhak feels the tips of his ears go red, hair falling on his face suddenly all too scratchy and uncomfortable and everything feeling all too _warm—_ “ _fuck_?”

Geonhak sounds, for lack of a better way to put it, like a deflating balloon.

“I’m not—I’d rather, like—” and he makes a _squeak_ of frustration—Youngjo stands up, lets one of his hands go to Geonhak’s hair. “I don’t know, I mean—like, we _do_ know each other and—and I’ve talked to him? But this is—”

“You want a proper date first?”

“…Yes” Geonhak’s voice is _quiet_ —he practically deflates—lets Youngjo ruffle his hair as he hums, gives a tiny and crooked smile.

“You could always ask him to meet up” a pat at Geonhak’s head. “Just to talk and stuff”

“No” All too fast and a little too loud—Youngjo laughs, steps back and lets his hand fall to Geonhak’s shoulder instead. “I’m bad at that” Geonhak frowns, gives Youngjo a nervous almost-glare. “At least with sex I’m—I’m _decent_ ”

“Geonhakkie,” Youngjo holds back a laugh, steps around Geonhak’s chair to drape himself over his back and shoulders. “You’re not bad at talking—not with Seoho, you guys get along well” Youngjo places his head on top of Geonhak’s, chin digging in but careful even so. “I’m sure a date would go fine”

“It would _not_ ” Geonhak huffs, glares at Youngjo’s empty chair. “At least I can’t fuck up at getting—” he rolls his shoulders back—lets Youngjo rub at them soothingly. “getting fucked. I can’t mess that up”

“What’s the problem, exactly, then?”

“Everything” Youngjo laughs loudly at that, squeezes at Geonhak’s shoulders and presses his chin down on his hair a little more—Geonhak huffs indignantly. “Everything is the problem”

“Go get railed” Geonhak _squawks,_ Youngjo only laughs again—gets up from Geonhak’s back with a last squeeze of his shoulders. “You feel more confident with that, don’t you?”

Unfortunately, Geonhak guesses, he does.

__

**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

geonhakkie~~ ^w^  
  
---|---  
  
**Geonhak:**

| 

How do you have my number?  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

Bougjht it off ebauy  
  
| 

anyway  
  
**Geonhak:**

| 

What?  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

…  
  
| 

peolasetell me  
  
| 

yuou knwoiw heat ebay is  
  
| 

oh ym god  
  
**Geonhak:**

| 

Uh  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

.  
  
| 

anyway anyway  
  
| 

woongie said to just text u frist  
  
| 

since u dotn even know what a phone is  
  
| 

Holdon i wshoudl turn on autocfrect  
  
**Geonhak:**

| 

You can turn it off?  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

You have yet to learn about the wonders of technology I see  
  
| 

Anyway I was saying  
  
| 

Woongie told me to text you first about the  
  
| 

hm  
  
| 

arrangement  
  
**Geonhak:**

| 

Why do you send so many texts like that?  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

I can’t believe I want to fuck you  
  
**Geonhak:**

| 

What?  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

🙄  
  
| 

So the arrangement. I know Woongie has absolutely no problem with people fucking here so long as its not on his bed. So. If you really are up for this and there’s no issue. Wanna come over like Friday night maybe? That’s when I’m free.  
  
| 

Feel free to say no though I don’t mind that  
  
Geonhak breathes— stares at his phone with running thoughts and sweat sticking his shirt to his back. He’s sitting at the damn _gym_ , had been trying to get his mind off things and his definitely-not-there sexual frustration when Seoho texted him—and he’s not sure what to do.

He could always tell Seoho that he wants to go on a nice date first—that he’d like to get closer and more _romantic_ before he let himself be railed into next week or whatever was gonna happen—

But, well, Geonhak’s bad at that—at talking, at _romance_ —even if Youngjo insists that it’s going to be fine, that Geonhak and Seoho could go on a date and it’d be just like any other day—even if Youngjo reassures him, Geonhak’s sure he’s going to mess up if he asks Seoho on a proper date.

They’ve known each other for years, yes, because Seoho is Hwanwoong’s best friend and roommate—shows up at dance practice with his stupid _Pepe_ bag and an extra bottle of water—teases Geonhak as he lets Hwanwoong hang off him—

They’ve never been _close,_ but they’re not strangers—they’re always meeting up and hanging out by mutual friends, it’s just that Geonhak doesn’t really use his phone, so he never got Seoho’s phone number.

They’ve known each other for years, yes, but Geonhak’s still sure that—if he tried to take Seoho out _romantically_ —he’d trip on his shoelaces and give himself a concussion—which, in turn, could _never_ end up in him getting laid, because he’s an idiot.

A horny, romantic idiot.

A horny, romantic idiot who has been given a chance to bang his unfortunate crush of a few months, and who—even if he hates having to give Hwanwoong _any_ credit—is sexually frustrated enough to _accept_ banging said crush—

God.

God, Geonhak is a fucking idiot.

**Geonhak:**

| 

What time?  
  
---|---  
  
**Seoho-hyung:**

| 

idk  
  
| 

5? That’s not night but it’s close enough and I’m free  
  
| 

Wink wink  
  
He turns his phone screen off, stares at the void for a second that feels like twenty,

He breathes out, shoves his phone in his pocket, breathes back in again.

Geonhak’s going to fuck his crush on Friday.

__

Friday was dance class with Hwanwoong, then snacks at the usual little café with Hwanwoong, and then it was getting set up with Seoho (by Hwanwoong).

Saturday was staring at his blank assignments and unanswered questions, figuring out how to grade his students while all the while mulling over the possibility of _fucking his crush._

Sunday was rushing to complete his work and Monday was letting the next block neighbours’ kids hang off his arms like a treehouse. Tuesday was breaking into Youngjo’s studio for advice, and Wednesday was texting Seoho.

Thursday is a blur, and Friday is today.

Friday is today, and Geonhak finds himself—through his haze and a hundred nerves and _what ifs_ plaguing his mind—walking towards Seoho and Hwanwoong’s apartment, overdressed, and sweating like a teenager in love.

He hadn’t _meant_ to overdress—hadn’t meant to even _think_ about what he was going to wear—but then Youngjo had seen him about to leave the house in his usual gym clothes, and Geonhak hadn’t been able to run away.

And so, here he stands, looking like he’s going to the fanciest dinner in his life when all he’s going to do is bang.

He sighs as he goes up the stairs, stops and leans against the wall of the second floor—he fixes the neck of Youngjo’s stupid _coat_ that had been forced on him, plays with the buttons of the shirt sleeves—all too tight and too _warm_ against his skin— he looks up at the stairs to the third floor, and sighs again.

Hwanwoong lives on the third floor, meaning Seoho lives on the third floor, meaning Geonhak only has so much time before he knocks on the door of fate and gives up his ass in lieu of his inability to hold a conversation.

How, he wonders, did his life come down to this.

Maybe it’s his fault for ever letting Hwanwoong seduce him into friendship, but it’s too late now to take things back—and he likes the little demon anyway, menace he is and all—so he’s kind of stuck in this reality he’s living in, and thus, stuck in the reality where he becomes sex buddies with his crush and Hwanwoong laughs while letting them fuck on his desk.

He pushes off the wall—lost in thought—and makes it up the stairs before he can even finish his train of thought—in fact, loses whatever point he was _going_ towards in the face of ever approaching _doom._

He stands, frozen, in front of the apartment door—hands and everything disgustingly _sweaty_ in a way that is not even remotely sexy— and feeling the weight of all his life choices on his shoulders.

He rings the little bell, hears its electric little chime, shoves his hands in his pockets and _waits—_

The next few seconds between that buzzing noise and Seoho opening the door feel like the longest in Geonhak’s fucking _life_ , and that’s counting auditions and having to hold Youngjo’s hand through one too many hardships and stress that made Geonhak want to cry—

Maybe he’s just overdramatic—whatever the case, his thoughts and wonders go straight out the window (where they belong) as soon as Seoho opens the door, all bright and pretty as he smiles at Geonhak in and oversized sweater and shorts.

There’s a beat of silence in which Seoho just _stares_ , smile leaving his face before slowly returning a hundred levels more _amused—_

Geonhak hates this.

Seoho breaks into a fit of giggles, hand on the door and glasses sliding off his face as he simply _loses his mind_ at Geonhak’s fucking _clothes—_

“Stop” Geonhak tries—Seoho replies with something like a wheeze, straightens up while still laughing and takes off his glasses to not _smudge them_ when he starts crying from laughter—

“I’m sorry” and it’s between giggles—between Seoho stepping away from the door and letting his glasses hang off a hand as he motions for Geonhak to come in. “You just—” he breathes out a laugh again, spares a glance at Geonhak that makes him break into giggles all over again— “You—why’re you—” Seoho breathes, somehow—Geonhak walks into the apartment and stands at the entrance with a _pout—_ “Why’re you dressed like that, oh my god?”

“Youngjo-hyung” Geonhak scrunches up his nose, gives a shrug and a whiny little huff— “Said to dress to impress”

Seoho _snorts_ , laughs a little more before he turns to Geonhak, motions for him to just take off his damn shoes and coat and _come in—_ “Not sure if impress is the right word, but I’m sure _something_ ”

“Fuck off” Seoho cackles, all too amused as he puts his glasses back on and gives Geonhak a dismissive little handwave. Geonhak huffs, shrugs off his coat and shoes—leaves them aside and follows Seoho in as he hums, a skip in his step as he walks towards what is most definitely _not_ his room.

They step into the kitchen, and Geonhak finds himself more than a little _stunned_ as he stares at what seem to be…takeout bags. On the kitchen table.

He blinks, Seoho turns around with a smile.

“Made Dongju take Hwanwoong away, so it’s just us here” he waves towards the food a little awkwardly, lets out a laugh. “Eat up”

“Huh?” Geonhak sounds _dumb_ , but he’s confused—head spinning and all too empty and hands way too sweaty where they rest in his pockets. Seoho gives him a teasing roll of his eyes, pulls back a chair and slides him cutlery over the table.

“Aren’t you hungry? Thought I’d treat you to dinner” Chipper as he pries apart a pair of disposable chopsticks, gets containers out of their bags with ease even if seemingly a little clumsy. “And don’t tell me you don’t want to eat; I’ll know it’s a lie”

“What?” Geonhak grabs the chopsticks and the lonely little spoon almost _mechanically_ , stares at Seoho like a very confused and _very_ scared little chicken.

“Isn’t this what people do?” Seoho lets the containers open, meat and vegetables in a little array that doesn’t even look _cheap_. “Like, give food?”

“When they’re just gonna _fuck?_ ” Geonhak sounds _maybe_ a little choked up—but can you blame him, really, when he thought he was coming here to be just a _fuck_ and ended up with… with his crush giving him _food?_

Seoho snorts—lets out a little awkward laugh and looks away, shrugs nonchalantly as he pokes at some meat with a chopstick. “I mean, well, we can just get straight to that if you want” Geonhak squeaks, Seoho laughs again. “But I figured you were more the type to—uh, like nicer dates and stuff, so”

“Wait” Seoho stops midway through shoving meat in his mouth, cocks his head to the side with eyes all too pretty and sleeves covering his hands where he didn’t bother to pull them up and out of the way. “Wait—like—when I talked to Hwanwoong he—” He chokes on air, rubs at the back of his neck—ruffles at his own hair and frowns, confused. “He—you—huh?”

“Huh?” Seoho mimics together with a cock of his head to the opposite side, food still hovering close to his mouth. Geonhak lets out a noise, something between a huff and a _squeak_ , and simply stares as Seoho smiles again. “Dude,” he lowers the meat, finally, places his chopsticks down neatly so they don’t roll off the table. “We can fuck later” a huff of laughter, a shrug of one of Seoho’s shoulders. “Like, I do want to do that, but I also want to, um” he frowns, taps at the table—bounces his legs and nearly steps on Geonhak. “Talk, like, it’s never been just the two of us, so”

“You want to _talk?_ ” Seoho still won’t meet his eyes, but he nods—gives another shrug and stares intently at the food in front of him. “Why?”

“What do you mean _why_?” Seoho looks up at him—a split second of eye contact before he’s biting his lip and letting out another laugh. “Because I like talking to you” and he sounds almost _incredulous—_ like he can’t fathom why Geonhak would even _ask_ this, never mind the fact that he was led to believe he was coming over to just—

“Did you—did you invite me over to _talk?_ ”

“And fuck, if you’d still like that, yes” and Geonhak is _not_ the best at observing people (he’s probably, in fact, the worst) but he can _tell_ —can tell that Seoho’s nervous, lips bitten a little too red and tips of his fingers clack _clacking_ against the material of the table—legs bouncing a little more than usual and a little bit _faster_ —

“I’d like that” Geonhak blurts out—stops with a little noise and a hand hitting against the table hard enough to _hurt_ before he shakes his head, hisses quietly in pain and _frowns—_ “Like, not just _fucking—_ I’d like to, uh, talk, and then—then we can” and Geonhak’s face is _burning_ and there is a _lot_ going on in there but he refuses to give any of it _any attention—_ “Then we can”

“Yeah” Seoho smiles, nervous tapping subsiding the _slightest_ bit. “Then we can fuck” and then he _smirks,_ and Geonhak feels something akin to _fear—_ “I’ll even kiss your forehead, if you’re good”

Geonhak has to stop himself from stabbing Seoho with a chopstick.

__

(“Did you, like” They’re on the living room couch now, Geonhak’s shirt a little _too_ dishevelled and Seoho’s legs on his lap. Seoho’s got his head propped up on a pillow, some random movie playing on the TV at almost zero volume while he plays on his phone. “Ask Hwanwoong to invite me over?”

“Nah” Seoho shrugs, locks his phone and lets it fall on the couch as he sits up—rests back on his arms as he gives Geonhak a shrug. “He offered, so I played along”

“Offered to set us up?” Seoho nods, pulls his legs off of Geonhak’s lap (Geonhak tries to pretend he _doesn’t_ miss the warmth, but he ends up pouting anyway) and stretches his arms up with a little noise.

“I don’t really, like, do sex friends” Seoho frowns, taps at the couch. “Besides Hwanwoong, but” Geonhak snorts, Seoho whacks at his shoulder with a smile of his own. “I figured you wouldn’t say no to my sexy ass if it was for sex”

Geonhak pokes at Seoho’s side _hard—_ has Seoho squeaking as he falls over with a choked laugh, head falling to Geonhak’s neck and _staying—_

“A normal date and you would’ve run” and he nuzzles against Geonhak’s beck, smile all too bright even in the darkness and well hidden. “Thought this would catch you off guard enough you’d say yes” he pulls back, eye-smile pretty pretty as he leans in to kiss at Geonhak’s cheek—all feather-light and careful. “It _was_ Hwanwoong’s idea, though” and he snickers—Geonhak rolls his eyes, lets Seoho kiss at his nose and down to his lips even as he lets out noises of complaint.

“I wouldn’t have—” Geonhak _tries_ , but then Seoho’s cutting him off with a kiss and a bite to his neck, and suddenly Geonhak just _can’t_ think anymore—

Will he thank Hwanwoong for this? Debatable, but maybe he’ll treat him to something nice next time he sees him—after making sure to soil his bedsheets, of course.)

**Author's Note:**

> (muffled) theyre gonna _fuck_
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/frosmxths)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/frosmxths)


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